Waiting for the Bell of Peace

Waiting for the Bell of Peace
Philip Khalil Philip Jihshan

I have not been religious for a very long time. I haven't set foot in a church in years. There's not much I hold dear about Christianity anymore. But Christmas is something I've held onto.

For me, Christmas has always been about service, about giving, about hope and joy. I remember once being told that it's Christmas every time you let God love others through you. I might not be sure of God anymore, but I do know that Christmas still means loving your neighbour.

Since the genocide began, I've found myself horrified by Christians seeming to be unbothered by the destruction of the birthplace of Jesus and the desecration of his brethren. Christian families who have lived in Bethlehem peacefully for hundreds of years had their homes seized and then bulldozed to make way for Israeli settler holiday homes.

The Jesus of the Christian bible was born in Palestine, and today, Christians cannot celebrate Christmas there or in Gaza without risk of attacks by Israeli settlers and occupation forces.

On Christmas morning, as it has been every day, Israeli occupation forces will kill Palestinians - babies, children, teenagers, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, the elderly. No Palestinian is safe.

Eighty-one days into the so-called ceasefire, Israel has killed at least 394 Palestinians in Gaza. Yesterday, Rayyan Mohammad Abu Mualla, just 16 years old, was shot and left to bleed out on the street until he died forty minutes later. When Red Crescent paramedics tried to rescue him, they were shot at by watching Israeli Occupation forces. This was in Jenin, not Gaza.

It is easy to imagine a baby who might change the world being born in a broken tent today, starving and cold, his mother fearing Israel's bombs and guns, fearing the night and attacks by soldiers.

Maybe she, along with the mothers in Aotearoa, will look at the night sky and hum a lullaby to her baby to settle them, to keep them quiet.

"Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care..."

"Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace...."

Thank you to Dr Jehad Malaka for writing about what Christmas is like in Palestine. Arohanui and Meri Kirihimete. Emily x

Waiting for the Bell of Peace

For the third year in a row, Gaza turns off the Christmas lights, waiting for the “Bell of Peace”. By Dr. Jehad Malaka

In the Gaza Strip, which still groans under the weight of killing, bombardment, and displacement, Christmas arrives for the third consecutive year without lights or celebrations. This is despite the partial ceasefire.

Sadness now hangs heavily over the churches that, at this time each year, would usually be adorned and prepared to welcome the Christian holidays. This comes as a result of the devastation inflicted during two years of war launched by Israel on October 8, 2023.

The façade of the Church of the Holy Family at the Latin Monastery complex east of Gaza City stands wounded, a silent witness to genocide, after sustaining damage from Israeli bombardment. 

Gaza is home to a significant number of Christian families who are indigenous to the city. Around 70% belong to the Greek Orthodox Church, while the remainder are affiliated with the Latin Catholic Church.

Over the past two years, these Christians have been subjected to several Israeli attacks. In July 2025, three displaced people hiding in the parish church were killed and nine others were injured, including Father Gabriel Romanelli, the parish priest. During two years of genocide, the Israeli occupation has killed 20 Palestinian Christians in attacks across various parts of the Strip.

Beyond the painful memories the church carries, it now shelters within its walls Christian families who lost their homes during the genocide. Each family is burdened with memories of loss and tragedy endured throughout the war. Israel has left Gaza’s Christian community, an integral part of the Strip’s social fabric, with no space for joy or celebration.

Philip Khalil Philip Jihshan

According to George Anton, Director of Operations of the Latin Patriarchate in Gaza and Head of the Catholic Church’s Emergency Committee, this year’s observances will be limited to Mass and prayers. Services will be held inside the church building, with no outdoor celebrations. Before the war, Gaza’s churches used to hold public celebrations in church courtyards, where a large Christmas tree would be lit, decorations hung, and festive rituals performed.

The people of Gaza, including the Christian denominations, remain in an unstable condition. They have been deeply affected by the war, they are exhausted, and grieving. They have not yet emerged from the atmosphere of war. Their wounds have not healed, and the effects of genocide have erased any manifestations of holiday joy.

After two years of war, it is time for the world to ring the “Bell of Peace.”

My friend Philip Jihshan wrote on his Facebook page, expressing the depth of pain he is living through in Gaza:

Today, my beloved, we become a memory…Today, my noble dream dies under the weight of betrayal…My Gazan Christian community stands at the crossing, waiting to emigrate to Australia, Canada, and elsewhere, waiting for salvation from a pain that has lasted longer than the heart can endure…Between my deep desire to stay and the tears of my family begging me to leave, the pain stretches across my chest…I cling to the thread of an old dream, searching for Santa’s gift that never arrived, for a small miracle that would keep us here…But determination alone is not enough, and words about “steadfastness and support” are futile in the face of a reality that grows harsher by the day. I only want you to remember us. To remember that Gaza once embraced a Christian community that was vibrant with life… and then vanished without anyone asking about it. Remember us…Whether we stay or leave, whether we still have a place here or become merely a name in memory. I am Philip Khalil Philip Jihshan, the owner of a once-noble dream…and today, the dream and I have become a memory of betrayal.

The Latin Monastery Church

The Latin Monastery is located east of Gaza City. It is a Christian complex belonging to the Catholic Church, enclosed by low walls and built in the 1960s from limestone. Within its grounds are the Church of the Holy Family, an elementary school, a kindergarten, the Missionaries of Charity convent (Mother Teresa’s order), and the parish complex. The Church of the Holy Family is the only Catholic church in the Gaza Strip and is directly administered by the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem.

The parish complex is home to the Missionaries of Charity, a congregation founded by Mother Teresa dedicated to serving the sick and disabled people. Fifty-four persons with disabilities live there under the care of nuns from different nationalities.

The Latin Monastery shelters around 600 displaced people - half of Gaza’s Christian population, which numbers approximately 1,000. Another 400 are sheltering in the Greek Orthodox Church.

The condition of Christians in Gaza is no different from that of Muslims, women, children, and men alike. Israel’s killing machine makes no distinction between Muslim and Christian, nor between church and mosque. 

Both are targets. 

Everything Palestinian in the Gaza Strip - people, stones, and trees - is a target for the Israeli army, which insists on destroying every foundation of life in Gaza. If it could, it would, in my view, throw all of Gaza’s people into the sea. 

It is an enemy restrained by neither law nor morality in its continuation of inhuman crimes.

It has not hesitated to strike the oldest and most historic churches of this land, nor to demolish history, knowledge, and culture. No Virgin can intercede, no ancient sanctuary is allowed to remain. 

Yet the people of Gaza - Muslims and Christians alike - were born from the womb of suffering, and history will testify that they are the ones most deserving of life. 

The occupation will vanish, and the people of Gaza will remain, heads held high, despite the heavy price paid.

They are the only truth in a world filled with deception and hypocrisy.

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Thank you Dr Malaka. It is a privilege and an honour to be able to publish your work. From Gaza to Aotearoa we are connected, always.

We are just $949 away from reaching our Gaza Christmas Appeal goal. Below is a video from our families thanking everyone who has donated over the past year.

Together, we can make a difference.

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